


Nap Club

by Thanni



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Added Lore, Happy Ending, Mentions of Violence, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pretty much the whole cast shows up in some way, Verdant Winds route, Warning will be put if necessary, with some alterations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanni/pseuds/Thanni
Summary: An unlikely chance encounter finds Linhardt joining Claude and Petra's informal nap group which then snowballs into events and friendships none of them could have ever predicted. But not all unpredictable things are bad and as time goes by the later called Nap Club grows to learn things about themselves and each other. And maybe, just maybe, find some peace and happiness in the times to come.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	1. Beginning of Nonsense (Linhardt)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so please be gentle ^^;
> 
> Many thanks to SacredSymbol821 for helping proofread and encouragement.

Finding a perfect place for a nap was an art, one which Linhardt had honed and refined after many long years. Today his search found him deep in the forest that was around Garreg Mach, looking for the right tree to lay under and snooze. 

He was also completely and utterly lost.

Normally he would not go so far out for a nap, far too much effort for minimum gain. Just the thought of having to find his way back after walking so far and going up all those flights of stairs after a good snooze made Linhardt shudder a little. However, Caspar had been particularly gung ho at breakfast that morning and every chance he could get to make Linhardt train with him, rambling non-stop about some special “training method” he had picked up from Raphael. Given what Rapahel interests entailed, Linhardt feared for his stomach and body so decided after classes to hide somewhere to nap till nightfall. Unfortunately for Linhardt, his typical napping spots were one of the few things Caspar bothered to really remember. 

So desperate times called for desperate measures. 

After meandering around for a bit longer, on the verge of giving up and just trying to find his way back and taking whatever torture Caspar had ready for him, Linhardt spots a particularly fine specimen of a tree. It was a massive oak sitting on the edge of a small clearing, it large branches spreading out quite far creating the perfect amount of shade underneath it. Furthermore at the roots and the trunk of the tree grew a massive patch of lush green moss, excellent cushioning while laying against it.

Perfect, Linhardt thought to himself, Finally something going right today.

He made his way to the oak and after finding a nice small niche between two of the larger roots to sit in, was about to lay his head back and finally rest when- 

“Linhardt? What you be doing out here?” 

Linhardt jolts a bit upon hearing that question and looks around quickly. He recognized that manner of speech and voice but he saw no one around. 

“Up here! Among the branches and the leaves.” 

Even with the dense amount of foliage and branches, that magenta braided hair and tattooed face stood out immediately amongst the greens and dark brown. Petra, his fellow Black Eagle classmate, was lying like a cat catnapping on a window sill on one of the bigger branches right above him, smiling down at him.

“You be surprising me Linhardt. I did not know you able to go this far by oneself.”

Although Linhardt did not like being disturbed before or during nap time (or at all for that matter), he was glad that it was Petra of all people given how bad his day was going. Caspar’s hyperness, Ferdinad’s air headedness, and Hubert’s stick in the mud attitude were much more draining to converse with compare to her. Linhardt was about to reply when a loud yawn came from higher up in the tree followed by another, more laid back, voice.

“Hmmm? Petra,is there someone else down there?”

Nevermind, this day just went back to going badly. 

There was a rustle, sound of leaves being moved and shoes stepping on bark. Soon Claude, the house leader for the Golden Deers, entered Linhardt’s line of sight in one of the large branches just above Petra. Even in the shade of the oak, among the clusters of leaves, Claude’s light green eyes seem to almost glow as they looked down at Linhardt. There was his usual small smile plastered onto his face but his eyes were darting around looking Linhardt over intently. It was pretty disconcerting. Linhardt felt he was being analyzed and picked apart like that frog they dissected in Manuela’s biology class the other day, a session that Linhardt had barely been able to stomach going through and almost lost it when Caspar had accidently sent a frog foot flying into his face.

“Claude,” Petra said cheerfully, breaking the small silence, “This be...is Linhardt, fellow student of my class. He is also interested in the crests and is very knowing of them.” 

The last comment could not help but pique Linhardt curiosity. There was not much Linhardt knew about Claude, after all they were not in the same class and Linhardt did not see the point in expending extra energy to bother. He had heard the whispers of course, many of which were rather malicious, regarding Claude. That he was some foreign spy who would poison you in your sleep, that he had lied and blackmail his way into the Reigen inheritance, among other such nonsense. Linhardt had little care for that kind of nonsensical talk, be it directed at himself or others, especially when they had little basis in the logical. Still, from what he could gather from the exasperated shouting and laughter that often came from the Golden Deer classroom, Claude was often the instigator of ruckus, ruckus Linhardt would rather avoid. And so he did.

Until today, unfortunately. 

The smile on Claude’s face widen upon hearing Petra’s introduction, like a cat that has just been scratched in a particularly good feeling spot which fill Linhardt with dread and squash the small bit of curiosity he had. As much as he likes the subject of Crests he was not in the mood to answer questions about it right now. He just really, really wants to get some rest now, preferably without Claude being above him ready to pounce. “As much as I would love to talk about such matters,” Linhardt grumbles while getting up, making it no secret in his tone of voice he was thinking quite the opposite. “I came out here for a nap and three is a crowd, so...” “Oh, but then that be perfect!” Petra exclaims excitedly. “You can be joining us in our sleepies.” 

Linhardt blinks twice, stunned, trying to process what Petra said on multiple levels. 

Joining us?...Wait...Sleepies? Is that supposed to be referring to napping?

Linhardt knew Petra was still learning how to speak the Fodlan language correctly, but such slang was unusual for her. Petra probably picked it up from Claude given how friendly with him she seemed. Taking advantage of Linhardt’s silence, Petra continued. “Me and Claude making this a place of meeting during specific days. To get in the sleepies, relaxing, and chatting. You are often of sleeping, perhaps you could be joining us? It would be giving me...” She looks up at Claude who answer her look with an affirmative nod. “Us, great joy if you could.”

Linhardt frowned, the last thing he wanted was to be part of some kind of club thing with Claude regardless if it involves napping.. “As fascinating as it sounds, I must decline and go-” “Why in such a rush to leave? Claude drawls, still all smiles but now eyeing Linhardt like a cat in the middle of trying to corner it’s prey. “At the very least you can nap here with us today for Petra’s sake. I won’t hurt you, I promise. Besides…” Claude’s smile transforms into more of smirk. “I get the feeling that you don’t know how to get back to the monastery entrance by yourself.”

Claude is right, and Linhardt hates it.

All Linhardt could do was let out a long sigh in response as he sits back down between the two roots, and lays his head against the trunk again. That’s it, he gives up. Linhardt has had enough of whatever nonsense this day seem intent on throwing at him, he will just nap now and will take whatever suffering comes after when it‘s finished. “If you wake me up before I get sufficient sleep,” Linhardt states rather pointily at Claude. “I am going to warp you somewhere very very far from here.”

Linhardt was, of course, lying. He was nowhere near mastering warp magic. But Claude did not need to know that. 

“If that is what you wish.” Claude did not even bother hiding the sarcasm or amusement in his voice, clearly daring Linhardt to carry out the warp threat. Grabbing onto something hidden behind the foliage Claude climbs back up to the higher part of the tree disappearing from sight. “Be sleeping well!” Petra happily follows up with as Linhardt closes his eyes. He hears the branch above him creak and shift as,he assumes, Petra moves onto her backside to sleep. 

Linhardt savors the quiet that follows before he finally gets to drifts off to sleep.


	2. Another Joins (Linhardt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events that unfold on the way back to the monastery, and Linhardt actually becoming a member of the group.

At least one thing went right this day for Linhardt, the oak was as perfect a napping spot as he had predicted. By the time Linhardt woke up, well rested and in a considerably better mood, the sun was starting to set bathing the forest in hues of orange, reds, and yellows. Some distance away he sees Petra and Claude, who must have woken up and got down while he was still sleeping. Linhardt got up, gave a stretch and a satisfied yawn before making his way to the two. Whatever the two were discussing, Linhardt could not hear from where he was. But as he drew closer he could make out their faces and was surprise to see Petra looking solemn and downcast and Claude had a pained expression, his eyes absent of that gleeful sparkle from earlier like a night lamp that was suddenly snuffed out encompassing everything around it in darkness. 

Linhardt would never learn what had transpired between the two that day.

Linhardt walking towards them finally catches the two’s attention and he sees Claude quickly gesture to cut the conversation short. By the time Linhardt join them, Claude had his usual smile slapped back on his face, fiddling with his left ring earring agitatedly while Petra had a slight smile but it looked a little pained. The atmosphere around them felt awkward and tense like the times Linhardt’s family went over to Caspar’s house and their respective fathers spent the whole time glaring daggers at each other and slinging insults while everyone else was just trying to eat dinner or converse normally. Only this time Linhardt did not have Caspar with him to talk to or drag Linhardt off to go play “Heroes and Villains” (Linhardt was always stuck playing the villain). 

It was times like this that made Linhardt appreciate how drama free his relationship with Caspar really was.

“Well, well,” Claude says giving Linhardt a rather exaggerated wink. “Looks like our guest of honor has finally decided to grace us with his presence again.” Linhardt was greatly tempted to respond back with how Claude should be glad Linhardt had not woken up sooner and fully witness whatever happened between him and Petra. But that was a path leading to more trouble, and maybe blackmail then Linhardt wants so he responds instead by rolling his eyes. 

“Let us be returning, else the moon will be high in the sky before we are back.” Petra says, her voice trying to sound cheerful but more subdued then before. “Of course. Sorry, but if you could lead the way back Petra.” Claude replies with a genuinely apologetic tone and a deep bow, an unusual action which Linhardt suspects was Claude’s indirect way of saying sorry for whatever happened earlier. Upon seeing Claude bow, Petra’s smile lightens and she gives a soft and gentle laugh. “It is no trouble, I am understanding way back best. And…” She pauses for a moment looking upwards at trees wistfully, clearly trying to find the right thing to say next. “It is...it’s of no worries Claude, I will be okay. I must.”

A flash of relief and happiness cross Claude’s face when he hears those words but he quickly hides it under his usual laid back expression. “I’m grateful to hear that, thank you.” Linhardt was also happy that whatever the situation was had resolved quickly or at the very least was on pause for now. Quiet was prefered but being stuck in an awkward silence when they walked back because of some secret drama would be the cherry of awful atop the sorbet of bad this day has been. 

“Oh, and Linhardt...” Claude turns and gives Linhardt another wink while Petra walks on ahead, his light green eyes once more fully alit with life. “Since you are fully refreshed, no doubt thanks to that wonderful oak we were so generous enough to share with you, I hope you don’t mind if I pick your brain while we walk.”

Linhardt really wished he had actually mastered warp magic right now.

* * *

The walk back to Garreg Mach was not...the worst. At the bare minimum not as agonizing as Linhardt had predicted it would be. Of course, he was still annoyed about having to put up with Claude’s company and prying questions. Claude had a surprising amount of in-depth questions regarding Crests and the Four Saints and, to Linhardt’s inconvenience, could actually keep up with what Linhardt was saying. Linhardt had to actually come up with lengthy and detailed enough answers to satisfy Claude’s curiosity. Petra was listening in on the two conversing as she continues to lead the way through the forest, occasionally joining in with her own comments or questions. It was nightfall by the time they made their way back up all those stairs to the inside of the monastery. All the energy Linhardt had got from that nap was well and truly spent at this point from all the walking and talking. Its the weekend tomorrow, Linhardt thought to himself sleepily as they walk to his dorm room near the fishing lake. I will just go to bed and finish all that homework in the morning...probably.

“We meeting at the entrance of monastery every Friday, after classes are ending.” Petra tells Linhardt before he could hide away in his room. “If you be wanting, please come and joining us.” “We would absolutely love your company, our conversation was quite...enlightening.” Claude voice drips with a friendliness and saccharine that made Linhardt inwardly shudder. Too tried to muster a full response, Linhardt settles with making a disgruntled noise and retreats into his room. He immediately collapses onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes, and drifts off once more to sleep.

Me, join them on a weekly met to go napping? No way, absolutely no way. Sure hanging out with Petra isn’t bad… But Claude? Today was enough Claude to last a lifetime. I will head to an early grave if I spend more time with him.

Linhardt grunts a bit and shifts around to a more comfortable spot on his pillow.

Yes...there was absolutely no way I am going to join them.

No way at all..

* * *

“Well, well, well, look who decides to grace us with his presence for a third time! Truly the gods of fortune smile upon me.” 

Claude looked as smug as a cat that just caught a particularly plump rat and Petra was beaming so brightly it was almost blinding.

Linhardt was greatly tempted to turn around and leave but resists. 

To be fair, for most of the week Linhardt did not budge on not joining them. Shooting down Petra when she asked him about it five times and not even going within ten feet of any Golden Deer members or their classroom. But the situation on Friday became dire, dire enough to force Linhardt to reconsider. He had been forcibly awoken early in the morning by Caspar banging loudly on his dorm door, excitedly telling Linhardt about just being taught some kind of “super awesome attack” and Linhardt should help him with it after class before running off yelling excitedly. Then in the afternoon, Hanneman had somehow found Linhardt in his secret napping spots twice, waking Linhardt up, and started lecturing him about how he must not squander his talents and abilities and how he really should help Hanneman with crestology studies and how much they could help Fodlan and-

Needless to say Linhardt walked away both times before Hanneman could finish his speal.

So really, the decision to join Claude and Petra was a logical one. Linhardt had no idea how to get back to that specific oak and why keep trying to get a nap in the monastery today under the risk of interruption and great torment, when he had a chance to get in a real good nap in relative peace and quiet. 

The risk in this was,of course, Claude. But Linhardt had come up with a quick plan on his way to the entrance to help mitigate any potential hassle.

“No pestering me before or while I nap,” Linhardt flatly states his conditions, directing them more again at Claude then Petra. “Oh, and do not ask me so many questions on the way back. I can only take so much. Under those conditions, I will join your group.” Linhardt knew that even though his conditions limited what Claude really was after, Claude would not say no to Linhardt joining willingly especially after his categorical refusal earlier in the week. Although Linhardt fears Claude would find a loophole to get what he wants anyways, that is a bridge Linhardt will cross later. 

For now he just wanted to get under that oak and have a proper nap.

“As you wish,” Claude answers smugly, clearly already thinking of ways he could bypass the rules he just agreed to. “I am in agreeance as well,” Petra was looking content with how everything has played out. “Now let us be leaving, else it will be late nightfall by the time of returning again.”

“Good idea,” Claude gives Linhardt a small sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Before Caspar or Hanneman takes him away from us.”

It was only after Linhardt returned to his dorm room after their excursion, had finished writing up some homework, and tucked himself into bed...that he realize the significance in what Claude had said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happen between Claude and Petra in the forest? The answer is in the next chapter so don’t worry.


	3. Something to Smile About (Claude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petra tames a owl, Claude thinks about his life, they try recruiting Cyril, and Linhardt is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit longer then the others so I apologize in advance.
> 
> Also it is from Claude's POV, I hope I do the character justice.

Because they were in different houses and Claude wanted to spare Petra further baggage that came with associating with him, they rarely interacted in the public eye minus small exchanges, school events, or meeting for their Friday routine. The last thing Claude wanted added to the litany of rumors and malicious talk was that Petra was his accomplice spying on the Black Eagles for him, or they were co-conspirators trying to destroy Fodlan on top of everything. 

He did not want more problems for both of them, more watching eyes.

Petra had agreed to Claude’s suggestion after much convincing, but Claude soon found out that she was as resourceful as him when it came to finding solutions to her problems. She was not going to be deterred from spending time with her new found friend. After a month of toil, Petra had figured out a way to communicate with Claude that would not draw much attention. It involved using the white owl that flew around Garreg Mach.

Among many of the mysteries that Claude was trying to figure out regarding Fodlan, that owl was under the “not actually important but still would like to find out” category. Apparently no one knew who the owl belongs to, how old it was, or even its name. It has been flying around the academy as long as people can remember and then some. Claude had read tales of a similar white owl in past records of monastic life with them being just as clueless about anything regarding it. Some have joked that it is an avatar of the Goddess, watching over the students to make sure they behaved and followed Serios’ teachings. 

If so then the Goddess was easily manipulated with food, for Petra had not only figured out where it traveled during the day but also that the owl really liked eating mice. By using mice that she gets from small traps boxes she placed near her room, Petra was able to coax the owl from its usual spots and started feeding and petting it in order to gain its trust. Eventually it became friendly enough with her that it would listen to what Petra asked it,for the small price of a squeaking mouse of course. 

The owl always came to Claude when he was by himself or the other Golden Deer were preoccupied, getting Claude’s attention by pecking and pulling at his cape (it was really fond of his cape, much to Claude’s dismay). Petra’s message, which asked him a time and date to meet, was always tied to its right leg. All Claude had to do was tie an answer for it to send back to her. Through this they were able to communicate mostly (the smirk Hilda gave to him after these message exchanges looked a bit too knowing for Claude’s liking) undetected.

A straightforward but ingenious plan, Claude was rather impressed. He only hoped the owl did not grow too fat that it cannot fly from all the mice Petra fed it.

He also wondered why Garreg Mach even had so many mice with its plethora of cats. 

This time the two of them were enjoying a Thursday lunch together in a corner of the greenhouse, sitting on the cool stone floor, away from the scrutinizing and suspicious gazes. Claude was digging into a chunk of pheasant he had swipe from Lorenz earlier in the dining hall and Petra was enjoying some grilled fish that she cooked earlier. There was a quiet while they ate, the only noise being the occasional distant sound of footsteps and them chewing, but it was not the unpleasant type of quiet.

Far removed from those horrible meals at the Reigen estate with just his grandfather who refused to even sit next to him, whose wrinkles upon wrinkles and pocked mark skin cannot hide his disapproving glare as he watched Claude eat; the sneer in his voice as he reminded Claude of proper Fodlan nobility etiquette. Even with his grandfather’s fading mind and body, the reason for Claude’s existence was burned into his mind and he despised it with the intensity of the scorching desert sun. It was little wonder he so resembled the dried peppers and fruits Claude used to see while he was scurrying around the marketplace as a kid. His grandfather’s hatred had burned away his heart, mind, and flesh, leaving behind nothing but a withered husk of something resembling a human.

If Claude was not the target of his vitriol he would almost pity the man’s state.

All Claude could do in response was to play it off as he always did, forcing on his light smile and keeping his tone cheerful to sidestep his grandfather’s venom, while fighting back the bile he felt in his throat. He wanted to yell back at his grandfather for how suffocating it felt to be here, to tell him how horrible it felt to be hated by your own flesh and blood. But there was too much to lose, as always, so Claude shoved those emotions away into the deep recesses of his heart with the rest. 

Claude cannot afford to show any signs his grandfather or others words affected him, not back then and certainly not now. He had to deny them any signs that they had won, that their words had cut a hundred- no, a thousand times over. Each fresh cut reopening all those before it, making him relive every hateful word and blow. It was why Claude learned to smile in the face of such hate. Because it was the easiest way to confuse, to make them doubt their actions had an effect, to distract from all the pain and hurt they caused. That maybe he could also fool himself into thinking everything will work out.

Bitterly, the small voice in the back of his mind wondered if his far-off dream was worth all this, worth all these lies.

Claude wished he could say that it was.

Being with Petra in contrast felt like a respite, like those precious moments of peace in his childhood. Snuggled up in a blanket watching as the sun sets amongst the sand dunes making way for the night and sparkling stars to take over the sky. When it felt like everything would be okay, that him being, existing, there in that moment was okay. Claude did not know if he could ever properly express to Petra how these times felt to him, he could only hope that he had something worth giving back to her.

* * *

It was after Claude had finished his pheasant that Petra, who had already finished eating, broke the peaceful silence between them with a question.

“Claude, Cyril is attending the Golden Deer classes is he not? Has he being- been working too hard?”

Claude raised one of his eyebrows, curious where this question came from. “Yeah, Teach invited him at my suggestion; Cyril has been living here for a while now, he should get a chance to learn too. Poor fellow been struggling though, he insisted on still working while attending classes and-” He looked around quickly to really make sure no one was around. The greenhouse still had no one besides them, but Claude still lowered his voice anyways just in case. “You know he can’t read or write? He tried pretending he could, but Teach quickly figured out something was wrong. Now he is taking extra lessons with them and Lysithea.”

As usual, Claude did not tell the full truth. As much as he enjoyed Petra’s company there were still things that he could not tell her and perhaps never will be able to.

He had actually figured out Cyril could not read rather early on in his time at Garreg Mach, watching Cyril struggle with grocery lists and putting scribbled drawings into the advice box. Most went out of their way to ignore Cyril’s presence but not Claude, he could not afford to. Cyril was a potential connection to Claude’s past, which could threaten his existence here in Fodlan and his ambitions. So yes, he had suggested to Byleth that they add Cyril to the Golden Deer class out of the hopes that Cyril would finally get to learn to read and write, learn one of the things that had long been denied from him. But, it was also so Claude could keep an eye on him and figure out how much Cyril knew about Claude’s true identity.

And, most importantly, if he was going to talk. 

“But why?” Petra looked horrified upon learning this new information. “I am knowing he is stubborn and will not be seeking help. But no one bothered finding out if he could?”

Claude laughs, not even bothering to hold back the bitterness in it. “No one cared. After all, why should the needs of some Almyran matter to them?”

A silence fell between them again, Petra mulling over this new info while Claude warily looked out of the greenhouse entrance and at the windows for any signs of someone eavesdropping. Still there was no one, but Claude’s mind was uneasy. Whenever they started to get into conversations like this, it suddenly felt like the whole world was listening in. That every leaf and flower was a spying eye, the smallest rustle from the winds a breath.

In these moments the world became smaller, for better and for worse.

Petra once more broke the silence, freeing Claude from his paranoid thoughts.

“The reason I was asking regarding Cyril. Earlier today, I was seeing him carrying wood when suddenly he became all weak of the legs and was spilling them everywhere. People nearby started laughing and insulting him, telling him he was useless and to be returning to Almyra.” Petra’s eyes filled with anger as she recalled what had transpired. “I could not stand there and listen to those things! So I am chasing them off with a practice sword. But afterwards, when trying to help Cyril picking up the wood he became furious. Insisting he was not needing of help, for me to be leaving him alone. But then Cyril became all weak of the legs again, so I was picking him up and carrying him to the infirmary despite his protests. He should be resting there now, but I am fearing that it is only a temporary solution and will happen again so I decided to send the owl to you.”

Claude cursed under his breath, he wondered why Cyril was absent from class this morning but the reason was worse than he had predicted. “Cyril’s schedule is a mad man’s task, he can try acting like it’s not but a schedule like that would even exhaust Raphael. He has been nodding off in class recently, but what you described is even worse and is going to bring him more trouble.” Claude rubbed the temples of his forehead and lets out a frustrated sigh. “I knew this would happen so I tried telling him to reduce his workload but he flat out won’t listen to anything I say. Teach tried too but even they had no luck.”

Once again, it was not the full truth. It was less Cyril would not listen to anything Claude said, and more like Cyril would not let Claude get within ten feet of him. Claude noticed too during class Cyril, not so discreetly, looking at him intently, like a wizened historian trying to recall some text they read long ago. Had Cyril figured out who Claude really was, or was he still completely clueless? Regardless of the reason, Cyril went out of his way to avoid Claude which stymie any attempts to answer these nagging questions. It frustrated Claude that Cyril was so refusing, of both attempts to help or to get close to him.

Claude was all too aware of the hypocrisy of such feelings.

“If I am guessing,” Petra’s voice was quiet. “Cyril is trying to behave strong because he does not want to be looking weak.” She looked down at the worn stone floor, running a finger through the plethora of cracks and holes that had gathered over time.

“None of us do.”

Claude knew she was right, knew that Cyril was so used to being beaten down, to being in a lose-lose situation where nothing you did matter, that any attempts to help becomes an act of pity, another way of being looked down on. Claude remembers all too well the times he yelled at Nader for scaring away bullies after a bad fight, claiming he could’ve won if Nader had not intervene even though the bruises and cuts that adorned his body said otherwise. The heart had become so hacked and battered, that anything that resembled the smallest slight made it bleed.

Despite everything, Cyril still wore his heart on his sleeve.

Because of everything, Claude had long buried his. 

Petra hid her own pain well too. She was often so full of genuine smiles and happiness that the possibility of such things existing in her heart had not occurred to Claude. A mistake that reared its ugly head the day Linhardt, by fate’s curious humor, stumbled upon the tree Claude and Petra were napping in. While Linhardt was still sleeping, Claude had rather callously asked her about her life in Brigid compared to Fodlan and which she preferred. Petra, fighting tears in her eyes, was indignant at the question.

_“I was hoping you of all people be knowing which one I prefer, where I would much rather be.”_

Petra in her kindness had forgiven him, but Claude was furious at himself for a long while after. How could he have forgotten that Petra was in Fodlan against her will. Only fifteen when her father was killed and her country had lost everything. Claude had come to Fodlan with misguided hopes he would not deny it, but he got to make a choice and later choose to stay. Meanwhile, Petra and Cyril had no choice, fate having cruelly ripped it away from them. 

They had to stay.

Claude let out a sigh, a much more tired one this time. “Well, the fact of the matter is that we have to do something before Cyril accidentally hurts himself with his axe next or something.”

“I was thinking,” Petra said slowly, her voice cautiously optimistic. “We could be trying to have him join our sleepies group.”

“What, you mean so he can get in some relaxation? I’m not sure once a week is going to cut it.”

“Cyril is too used to his life; we have to be helping him slowly. If he is joining we could be trying to meet more then once a week as well.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot but…how are we going to get him to agree? I already told you he won’t listen to anything I say.”

“Be leaving it to me,” Petra responded firmly, her eyes burning with conviction. “I will get him to the entrance tomorrow and then together we can be convincing him to join.”

Claude lets out a small doubtful laugh, “What are you going to do, tie him up and drag him there?”  


* * *

As it turned out, Claude was wrong. Petra’s plan was not to tie up Cyril and drag him to the entrance.

Petra’s plan was to tie up Cyril and _carry_ him to the entrance. 

All Claude could do was watch in amazement as Petra approached, Cyril slung over her shoulder like a sack of vegetables, where he and Linhardt were waiting; poor Cyril all bound up desperately trying to escape and get Petra to drop him. 

Claude, in that moment, made a mental note to never get Petra bad side ever again.

Linhardt somehow looked even more done with everything then usual upon seeing what Petra was doing.

“Claude, what did you convince Petra to do?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, why must you always think poor little me is behind everything?” Claude feigned great indignation at Linhardt’s accusation. “This was Petra’s idea not mine, I did not know she would do something like this.”

This time he was actually telling the full truth.

Too bad, judging by the unamused expression on his face, Linhardt was not buying it.

“Let me go, let me go!” Cyril continues to thrash around while Petra triumphantly plopped him down in front of Linhardt and Claude. “If this is about yesterday, I said I was sorry okay?! Now please untie me.”

“Do not be worrying about apologizing; I am understanding why you were mad.” Petra replied warmly and politely, as if the situation was totally normal and she did not just kidnap him from wherever he was earlier. “This is not about that, this is about your health.”

Cyril looked confused.

“I think my health is fine when people aren’t ambushing me and carrying me across the whole monastery.”

“Falling asleep in class constantly and getting dizzy spells while working hardly constitutes as fine.” Claude casually interjects to which Cyril responds with an annoyed glare. 

“I don’t know, falling asleep in class sounds quite fine-,” Linhardt immediately falls quiet once he sees Claude and Petra glaring daggers at him.

“Okay maybe I did fall asleep once or twice, but it’s just me getting used to this new schedule.” Cyril protests, still trying to break free of his restraints. “In a week or so I will be able to tough it out.”  
“We are not wanting you to tough it out,” Petra said firmly. “We are wanting you to be relaxing. That is why I am bringing you here today so you can join our sleepies group.” 

Cyril looked even more confused upon hearing this. 

“You’re kidding right? I don’t have time for some crazy group about whatever sleepies is. I have so much work to do, which you dragging me here has put me behind on.” He trashed about a bit more, futilely trying to escape; because of their tree climbing adventures Claude knew Petra was capable of tying up some pretty strong knots. “So let me out of here!” 

Cyril is being even more obstinate than usual, probably due to being tied up. Claude knew they could not keep Cyril here like this for long, all the ruckus most likely already drew attention and the last thing he wanted was Cyril’s mentor Shamir to show up. If Shamir came here and saw this scene...well, Claude would consider it a miracle if they got out of that situation alive. 

Claude bit his lip, he did not want to resort to this but Cyril’s insistence on not listening to both him and Petra left him no choice. “There is no need to be so against joining us, you should be more open minded to these sorta things. ” Claude let out a casual laugh, while his brain tries frantically to calculate the odds of what he could say next working out.

It was really _really_ bad odds, but it was a chance and that was all Claude needed to go for it. 

“Sleeping is in fact very beneficial to making one stronger and better. Isn’t that right, Linhardt?” 

Linhardt, who by now was already starting to zone out of the conversation, was brought back upon hearing his name. “Hmm? Well...I mean…” He paused and a conflicted look formed on his face as he realized what he was put up to. Claude knew Linhardt was battling his dislike of doing what Claude wanted him to do and his want to just get all this over with so he can go sleep. Claude tries giving him as sincere of a pleading look as he could possibly muster. Cyril did not know Linhardt which, rather ironically, means he probably had the best odds out of the three to have their words stick. Claude has already nudge Linhardt into the direction of what he should say. 

It was now a matter of if he will cooperate 

Linhardt frowns, thinking for a moment more. Finally, he lets out a small defeated sigh and folds his arms. 

“Cyril, was it? As much as I loathe to admit it, Claude is correct.” 

“...You’re kidding right?” 

“No, far from it. The muscles and the brain after a certain amount of work hits a point that any excessive work beyond that is actually harmful to it. If you do not rest both body and mind when it needs to, all that extra work quite frankly amounts to nothing but heading to an early grave.” 

Cyril winces upon hearing that last part and looks down defeatedly. Claude felt kind of bad, Linhardt’s level of tact continues to be comparable to that of an old, ornery camel. Still such harsh words seems to have found their mark.

“So are you saying... I should actually join you guys? That it would help me?” Cyril still sounded really hesitant and doubtful about the idea. 

Linhardt shrugs. “I’m merely stating the facts, whether you join or not is up to you. My time with the group so far has not been...the worst. You could do far worse than the company of these two.” He gestures at Claude and Petra. “They clearly care about your wellbeing in some capacity, given how much effort they went through to try and get you to join.” 

Cyril looks down again, clearly deep in thought. A silence fell amongst the group as they waited for Cyril’s answer. Petra looked concern, Linhardt still indifferent, and Claude was fearful that Shamir might turn up any second and turn them all into target practice. The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity when finally Cyril spoke.

“Okay, I’ll join. Just...you guys better not make me do anything weird alright?” 

Petra lets out an exclamation of joy and hugs Cyril, squishing her cheek against his. “We are most happy to be having you in our group! May we have many a great time together.”  
“W-wha- Hey!” Cyril blushes furiously as tries to pry himself free from Petra’s grasp. “Y-you don’t have to hug me. Also, please untie me already!” 

“Mission accomplished, I suppose.” Linhardt commented dryly while giving Claude a “you totally owe me for this” look. 

Claude shot a coy smile back in response, but the smile softened into a more genuine one as he watched Petra help Cyril finally be freed from the ropes. Claude knew in the grand scheme of things these events most likely meant nothing, neither in helping his dreams or changing fate’s cruel and relentless course. 

Still, it was a small victory and he was happy. 

For now, that was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Petra POV with another recruitment.
> 
> Who is it? Perhaps some of you can already guess :)


	4. Searching and Seeking (Petra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang plays hide and seek, Petra asks Claude a question, and she meets Byleth for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologies for the delay, I am still traveling so my wi-fi situation has been on and off and a lot of my time is spent sight seeing. I have updated some tags, added proper page dividers in the previous chapters, and added chapter names with whose POV it is from.
> 
> This was originally going to be one chapter, but it was too long so now it is a two part-er. I hope it is still a enjoyable read and hopefully the follow up will be finished soon.
> 
> Also Byleth is non-binary and use "Them/They" adjectives, if I mess up please let me know.

“Claude, I swear if you are hiding high up in the trees again, that’ll be the third time you’re breaking the rules!”

Cyril’s voice was coming from a long way off but the annoyance in it was quite clear. Upon hearing this Claude gives a small smile and winks at Petra. “He sure likes glossing over the fact that rule was only made after the second time I was hiding in a tree.” “That is meaning you are still breaking the rules at least once.” Although Petra was reprimanding him, she did not hide the amusement in her voice as she spoke.

Cyril had taken to being with the nap group faster than Petra had thought given how resistant to the idea that he was at first. He even was fine with Claude suggestion of also meeting Monday afternoons, another time when, rather conveniently, all of them were free. Sometimes Cyril would fall asleep almost immediately at the foot of the tree, at a speed that rivaled Lindhart’s ability to doze off. Petra can only imagine how much Cyril tries to do in the average week and how much of a toll it takes on him. So she was pleased when later Claude told her that Cyril was no longer falling asleep in class and was even letting other members of the Golden Deer assist with his work. Although the later part Claude claimed was due to Lysithea speaking up about it, while teasingly adding that he thinks Cyril has a small crush on her, Petra could not help but suspect that Claude had something to do with it.

If there was anything that Petra has learned about Claude in the past several months it was that Claude had a perchance of events playing out in his favor or perhaps it was more along the line that he set it up so it would work out that way. Claude’s cavalier and nonchalant attitude made it hard for Petra to be sure, of when it was really just good fortunes or all some well crafted manipulations done ahead of time. If Petra’s first meeting with Claude did not end with Claude falling face first out of a tree then perhaps his behavior and the shroud of secrecy around him would trouble her more. But Petra did not want to doubt, not when her time with Claude was mostly filled with happiness. That was not to say she was not happy with the rest of the Black Eagles. Edelgard was considerate, Hubert was respectful, Ferdinand was tactless a lot of the times but had good intentions, Bernadetta was skittish, Dorothea doted on her, Caspar was always eager to spar, and Lindhart…did not dislike Petra’s company, that much she was at least sure of. However, being with Claude was a different type of happiness. It felt like she was back in Brigid when she was with him, back before she had lost almost everything and was forced to go to Garreg Mach with a heavy heart. Being with Claude helped ease the loneliness she had buried deep down in her heart that still ached at times when she looked at the murky fishing pond so different from the wonderful clear light-blue waters of Brigid, or the brown and grey birds devoid of that vibrant color plumage that she use to see every day but was now becoming a fading memory.

“It’s that special understanding between outsiders.” Claude once said with a smile, a rare smile that was devoid of his usual cheer but somber and wistful. Petra was not fully sure of what that sentence entailed but she could sense a deep seated loneliness under those words. So she decided she would trust that bond and trust that Claude; the one that fell out of trees, was respectful to nature, and full of a fervent curiosity of the world. If it all turned out to be some sort of long planned out deceit then Petra would bear that heartbreak when the time came.

And then of course see to it that Claude would never consider doing such a thing ever again.

There were other days were Cyril was too full of energy to sleep so Petra and Claude would play games with him to help burn off some energy. Petra tried getting Lindhart to join but he simply started snoring in response and no amount of pulling would awaken him from his slumber so Petra gave up. Cyril huffed a bit at first at the idea of playing, but after playing with them a few times he warmed up to it. For some unknown reason his favorite in particular was hide and seek, and so that was the one they played the most. Currently, Claude and Petra were hiding together in a big bush next to an oak; crouched down and voices hushed to avoid Cyril seeing any sign of their presence. Normally the two would split up and hide in different places; it would hardly be much of a game if Cyril caught them both at the same time. However, today Petra wanted to ask Claude something in private so she followed him to his hiding spot and join him in the bush. If Claude was surprised by her actions or wondering what she was doing he did not say anything, engaging her in friendly small talk as if the situation was normal, waiting for Petra to explain herself. After they finish a rather engaging conversation about wyvern riding, Petra had taken an interest in the subject recently and Claude was well versed in it, she decides it was time to get to her inquiry.

“Claude, what are you knowing about Dedue?”

Claude raises an eyebrow, looking surprised at the question. “He’s not in my house so I don’t know that much about him…” Despite what he said though, his eyes flicker and darted back and forth like he was quickly scanning through a plethora of books for the topic at hand. They then still and his smile curls upwards a bit as if he had just found a passage containing the pertinent information. “Well there is the general stuff pretty much everyone knows, right hand man to his Princeliness of Fareghus and a survivor of the Tragedy of Duscur. I saw him and Ashe cooking up something that looked real tasty one time in the dining hall, but that’s about it. The guy mostly sticks with the rest of the Blue Lions, when he is not keeping to himself... So, why are you asking me about him?” The smile turns into a more victorious one, like a child that had just had their first successful hunt. “Are you planning on getting Dedue to join our nappy group too? You’ll be recruiting people as fast as Teach does at this rate.” Petra lets out a small giggle upon hearing this. “First it is sleepies now it is nappy; it seems you are always coming up with endless ways to describe sleeping. And I was not intending to be asking him to join us, so you need not worrying about a crowd.” “Aw, so I guessed wrong?” Claude gives an exaggerated and disappointed pout; his eyes alight with curiosity now, looking at Petra intently for any signs of a possible answer. “When I say that that doesn’t mean I’m opposed to him joining. Well, if by some act of fate you were able convince him.”

Petra pause, considering what Claude just said. Contrary to what she said Claude was not completely off the mark; Petra had thought of asking Dedue to join their group. Dedue was not native to Fodlan like most of the group (if her assumption about Claude’s background was correct), so Petra thought that maybe it could be beneficial for all of them if he joined. But from limited observations and talk from her fellow Black Eagle members she was able to gather that Dedue seem to lead a rather busy life, if a quiet one out of sight of most. That and because she has never interacted with Dedue before discouraged her from trying. Unlike the situation with Cyril, neither she nor Claude has anything to work with to be able to persuade Dedue to join especially because he seemed very staunchly dedicated to his role. No, the reason Petra wanted to ask about Dedue was for a more personal reason but she unsure how much she should tell Claude. 

If there was one thing Claude kept away from everyone almost habitually, even Petra, it was the past and so in turn Petra avoiding discussing such things with him. “I am wanting…” She stops for a moment and then decides on telling most of the truth. “I am wanting to speak to him, to ask him something important to me.” Petra felt guilty about not telling Claude the full truth but hope that her explanation was satisfactory enough for him. “Hmmm…” Claude hums lightly, casually swirling his braid with his right index finger, clearly thinking. Although the smile was still on his face, it was less pronounced and his brows were furrowed. “Well,” Claude voice was still light but still also full of curiosity. “I still don’t understand why you are asking me about him. Couldn’t you just go and talk to him if you really wanted to, what’s stopping you?”

“Dimitri,” Petra simply states but as she sees understanding register in Claude’s eyes it was all that needed to be said.

“Ah, his royalness eh?” Claude pinches his braid now between his two fingers and continues fiddling with it, deep in thought. “Yeah,” He finally says after a moment’s pause. “It’s hard to really open your heart to someone if Mr. Prim and Proper is standing around, Dedue is with him pretty much all the time to boot.” Petra tilts her head confused; sometimes Claude’s way of speaking baffles her despite having picked up on some of his language. “I am not giving Dedue my heart; I am wanting to speak to him alone.” Claude smile broadens clearly amused at what Petra just said. “I would hope not, that is unhealthy for people like us in more ways than one…” He pauses again for a moment, considering something before continuing on. “...Still about your problem, I think I know someone who mi-”

“Ah ha! I found you two lovebirds!”

There is a rustle as part of the bush above them parts and Cyril’s head pokes through it looking triumphant at having finally found the two. Petra frowns. “Me and Claude are not birds and we are not being in love.”

“Haha, way to shoot a guy down before romance can even blossom in his young heart.” Claude’s voice was full of mirth but he shoots Petra a quick warning look while getting up, lightly dusting off his knees. It was clear that what they were talking about; he did not want Cyril to know. “I am not looking for such things, not now.” Petra calmly replies back while also getting up, and she sees a sympathetic look cross Claude’s face briefly. It was true her grandfather had wanted her to find a Fodlaner noble to marry, preferably one from the Adrestrian Empire to improve Brigid’s position, while in Garreg Mach but Petra had taken to the idea as well as a flame in a raging storm. The person whom she falls in love with was one of the few freedoms she had left anymore and so she covets that freedom greatly. That and she hardly had the time to think about romance, not when there was so much to be done on a given day.

Not when she constantly had to prove that she deserves to be here and more. 

Cyril frowns, looking back and forth at the two of them, confusion clear on his face. “Wait so you two aren’t a…a…c-c-” Cyril fumbles and stumbles with his words, a small blush appearing on his cheeks as he realizes his mistake. “You may have love on the brains cause of Lysithea,” Claude was still speaking in a light and amused tone but it felt like he was jabbing Cyril for his misunderstanding. “That doesn’t mean everyone else is blessed with such wondrous and fortunate feelings, Cyril.”

Cyril’s face flushes into a darker shade of red in pure embarrassment and later when the group was heading back to the monastery, Petra could hear him getting into a rather heated argument with Claude. Although Petra could not make out all of the conversation because she was leading the way back, she did hear a rather flustered and loud

“I don’t have a crush on her, stop saying stuff like that about me!”

* * *

“Dedue?”

Byleth’s face was inscrutable not even the smallest hint of a frown or sign of any frustration at Petra’s inquiry or having been interrupted. At Claude’s suggestion, Petra had found Byleth at the pond dock the following afternoon during lunch, intently fishing while muttering something about “catching more golden fish to fund gifts.” It took Petra calling for them several times and a shoulder chop to finally snap Byleth out of their fishing revelry. There is silence as Byleth stares intently at Petra, seemingly considering something or at least Petra assumes that is what they are doing. Petra has never spoken to Byleth and unsure of what they will do next so she patiently waits, the quiet only disturbed by the sound of the multitude of fish Byleth has caught flopping around in their buckets. 

Although Byleth’s eyes were a lighter shade of green then Claude’s it was devoid of the same sparkle and energy that Claude’s exudes in multitudes. Petra was greatly reminded of the looking stones that littered Brigid, strange rocks were scattered across the land out by their lonesome. All of them had a face with two eyes and a triangle nose carved into them that was always facing the direction of the nearest shore. No one can remember how they got there or why they were put there to begin with. Some believe it was the work of the spirits but others said it was the work of their ancestors to help guide their descendants, historians in Brigid frequently bickered and hotly debated about it to this day. Petra muses to herself that some of the looking stones might be more expressive than the face Byleth is giving right now. Still, Claude and Edelgard had nothing but good things to say about them and their abilities. For Edelgard in particular it was rare for her to give such glowing praise so Petra quells the doubts she was feeling.

“Ah…you are…” Byleth tilts their head to a side, their dark blue hair swaying as they do so, still looking at Petra as intently as a seagull eyeing its next catch. “You are the one who helped Cyril right? Claude told me.” Petra nods. “Yes, I am.” She was surprised Claude told Byleth this and wondered how much he said regarding their friendship given how much he was opposed people knowing. That means Claude either trusted Byleth or was forced to say a few things given the circumstances. From what she knew about Claude, Petra suspects it was the later.

“I was concerned about Cyril too; he kept falling asleep in class and the other students were worried. If you had not helped him that day I was going to tie him up to a bed and force him to sleep.” The corners of Byleth’s mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly. “It is good you and Claude came up with a better solution.”They then crouch down and start searching through the buckets of fish for something. After a moment they lift up a particularly large brown fish with a rather big forehead out of one bucket and, with it still flopping weakly to try to escape, holds it outstretched towards Petra.  
It took Petra a minute to figure out what Byleth was doing. “Oh… thank you, but it is okay.” Petra says kindly, but shaking her head in refusal. “I am not needing a gift for helping Cyril. He has been a good member of our group, and it was of no trouble.” “You sure?” Byleth’s face and voice was still as impressive as ever as they ask, still clutching the flopping fish. “It is a bullhead fish, it a rare species and I heard it taste good.” Petra nods in answer, and Byleth stares at her once more. Petra meets their gaze, unsure of what they were looking for as a silence fell between them again.

“Okay then,” Byleth finally says mildly after what felt like forever and, to Petra shock, casually grabs the fish by the tail with both hands, turns around, and hurls it skywards over the dock like a hunter would with a sling and stone. The fish sail quite a distance into the sky, still flopping and flailing, before sinking like a rock and falling into the pond with a massive splash. Petra could only watch baffle as some of the spray from the unfortunate fish’s landing splashes on her boots, trying to process what just happened. “Huh,” Byleth’s voice still sounds as calm as they watch the scene unfold, despite having just taken a face full of water from the splash, but there was a slight sound of disappointment in it this time. “I thought it would make a bigger splash and would bring up more fish for me to catch…” They shook their head solemnly, droplets of water going in different directions, and let out a remorseful sigh. “I wasted a fish…”

All the doubts Petra try to quell were coming back in full force.

“...Pardon me Professor, but about what I am first asking you-”

“Dedue, right?” Byleth turns around, water dripping down from their hair, cheeks, and chin, continuing the original conversation as if they had not just offered and then hurl a hard to catch fish back into the pond. “He is not one of my students, but I did see him walking into the greenhouse earlier and I have not seen him leave it while I was fishing so he is probably still inside.” “Oh, is that so?” Petra could not hide her happiness; she finally got a lead after what felt like so long. “Yes, but…” Byleth tilts their head again and this time the corners of their mouth shifts slightly downward into a slight frown. “If I am not misunderstanding, you are on speaking terms with Claude right? Cause Claude was the one who mentioned to me earlier that Dedue likes gardening in the greenhouse on Saturday afternoons; it was why I noticed Dedue walking there in the first place. Did you not ask Claude about your problem first?” 

Petra lets out a small frustrated sigh. Should she even be surprised by this? The whole reason she asked Claude for help in the first place was because she assumed, with his perchance of knowing smaller details and habits of the other students, that Claude knew where she could find and talk to Dedue alone. Claude’s insistence that he did not and that Petra should go ask Byleth instead made her doubt what she initially thought, but hearing what Byleth just said made everything clear; this was all part of some sort of convoluted plan from Claude…but, for what purpose or ends eludes Petra. All making Petra do some extra steps seem to have brought was her meeting Claude’s rather unusual teacher (and she thought Manuela was eccentric at times) and slightly wet boots. What did Claude have to gain from all this? Petra inwardly tells herself to get the answer out of Claude later, by force if necessary. 

“I was actually asking him first,” Petra explains to Byleth earnestly and truthfully. “But he was telling me that he does not know and to be asking you instead.” “Hmm…This would not be the first time Claude has been up to something,” Their brow furrows and their frown deepens, the first time any considerable emotion has shown on their face since Petra has talked to them. “I do not know what he is up to most of the time, he very much operates on his own whims ... as do the other Golden Deer to be honest. But, he is a good kid and I believe he has good intentions. So please, do not think too badly of him.” There was a different tone in their voice as they said the last part. Defensive? A bit apologetic even. Petra smiles slightly at this, it was nice to see that despite their stoic exterior Byleth cares about their students. Perhaps there was something after all to the praise Edelgard and Claude gave. “There is no need to be worrying. With Claude, I have- I’ve come to expect such things from him. I will be getting the truth from him later.” She gives a small polite bow to Byleth. “Thank you for your time and help, I must be going before Dedue leaves and I am missing my chance.” Byleth nods, and stares off in the distance with a thoughtful expression on their face. Considering their silence as a sign the conversation was over, Petra turns around and was about to leave the docks when-

“Do you like being with the Black Eagles?”

Petra looks back. Byleth’s face was back to its, as Petra has now learn from meeting them, typical stoicism. However, in their eyes Petra sees a small, but rather familiar, flicker of curiosity. Petra hesitates, looking down at the water worn wood of the docks, the all too quiet muddy waters of the pond now that it had settled after the fish throwing incident. To be suddenly asked a question like that and from someone she just met on top of it. Petra pauses for a moment, trying to put together the right thing to say, if such a thing was even possible. When she finally spoke, her voice far more quiet and vulnerable then she wishes but she answers sincerely.  


“It is where I must be, for Brigid’s sake. So I will follow that path wherever it takes me.” 

Byleth nods again, the expression on their face still unchanged. Then, without another word, they turn back around, facing out to the pond’s water.

After waiting for a few seconds to see if the conversation was truly over, Petra dashes off in the direction of the greenhouse.

As she makes her way inside, Petra can hear the distant sounds of a fish being reeled in.


End file.
